


Walking on the Sky

by MartyMiaMatt



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Crush, Fluff, M/M, Teenage Crush, development of a crush, what is this feeling?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-14
Updated: 2017-02-14
Packaged: 2018-09-24 08:17:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,275
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9712976
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MartyMiaMatt/pseuds/MartyMiaMatt
Summary: Friends, Otabek said, they can be friends. And he’s accepted.Yuri has never had a proper friend. Coaches, yes. Colleagues and opponents, yes.But a friend? No.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone!  
> I started watching "Yuri on ice" a couple weeks ago and I predictably fell in love with this anime, just like everyone else.  
> This is the first fanfic I've ever written for this fandom. It's also the first fanfic I've posted here that is in English, so please let me know if there are any mistakes! :)  
> It's set between episodes 10 and 11, when Otabek befriends Yuri in Barcelona. It's just a fluffy little thing that was inspired, among other things, by this very catchy song: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KDXOzr0GoA4  
> I thought Valentine's Day would be the perfect occasion to post it. 
> 
> Thanks to my precious friends Mads and N, who read the story and encouraged me to publish it. :)

" _Black burn, I feel so alone_  
 _Without you boy_  
 _Now I'm here,_  
 _Hanging out in the street_  
 _Thinking about reactions over actions_  
 _Walking on the sky of my dreams_ "*

Otabek’s hand around his feels warm and Yuri smiles.  
Not a snarl, not a grimace; just a smile. He’s simply happy.  
The handshake is brief, a quick moment that comes and passes, but it feels like signing some sort of contract. Like a promise.  
December’s air is crispy and cutting around their bodies and on their faces, despite the layers of heavy winter clothing. The setting sun sets the terrace ablaze, colorful jewels shimmering all around them.  
There is something about this city that forces even Yuri to take a break, to raise his eyes and look around. Something that makes him want to enjoy the breathtaking views and visit the monuments and lose himself wandering around the maze of small streets. (Which he would very much like to do, whenever he’s not hiding from hordes of screaming fans.)  
Otabek smiles back, just a little, and Yuri realizes he’s been staring at the older skater. He lowers his gaze and fixes it on his own shoes instead.  
Friends, Otabek said, they can be friends. And he’s accepted. If it were anyone else, by now he’d have made some snarky, haughty comment and spat out an appropriately creative string of insults. Yuri has never had a proper friend. Coaches, yes. Colleagues and opponents, yes. But a friend? No.  
(That idiot Katsuki has tried to be his friend, but it’s not like Yuri wants to be all nice and friendly with him of all people. They’re rivals. Let’s just let things stay that way because it makes everything much easier, though Yuri doesn’t really hate him anymore, either.)  
Otabek softly asks if he wants to go somewhere else. Yuri doesn’t think twice, he just follows.  
His heartbeat drums in his chest and in his ears. It takes more than a few flights of stairs to leave him breathless, so Yuri knows that it’s not because he’s fatigued. He doesn’t try to pry around his own thoughts more deeply than that.

They sit across each other at a small table in a cozy bar and Yuri’s cheek feels flushed, as if the skin is being prickled by needles. He plays with the handle of his cup and picks at his food.  
Otabek’s voice is deep and pleasant, not quite soft, but there’s a fondness to it as he reminisces of shared anecdotes that tie their pasts together. His dark eyes shine, his gestures lose their rigidity and he suddenly transforms.  
Alone with someone he can trust to understand, someone he views as an equal, Otabek shows a range of emotions and expresses a passion that probably very few suspect.  
Yuri’s heart keeps beating uncontrolled.  
Otabek makes him smile. Otabek makes him laugh.  
Usually Yuri would look for something to get angry about, something that could give him an excuse to stand up and start yelling. He doesn’t find anything. There is really nothing about Otabek Altin that makes him angry.  
They spend this way what seems to be a very short time.  
Yuri is very displeased when, who knows how, all the fellow skaters find them. Suddenly they’re not alone anymore.  
They’re flooded by a chorus of loud voices chattering, surrounded by elbows and backs and hands brushing against them. Part of Yuri is upset, but another part is almost relieved – because attention is quickly diverted from the two of them and focused on Katsuki and the old man Victor.  
This means that no one is staring at them and asking stupid questions. Smiling their stupid, smug smiles, and poking around as if they know better than him.

The moment to race against Otabek can’t come fast enough.  
The thought fills Yuri’s chest with a bubble of enthusiasm and restlessness.  
He wants to see him at work. Wants to see the artist give all he has, and he’s going to show him too, he’s going to make his own short program so damn flawless that Otabek won’t be able to avert his eyes.  
Yuri can’t wait.

" _My love, I just feel so lost_  
 _Without you boy_  
 _I am yours, even if time has passed_  
 _Take me away_  
 _From this impetuous world_  
 _Leaving this jail of my mind_ "

Yuri is still catching his breath, his lungs filling with burning air, as Otabek approaches him outside the rink. Yuri is leaning with one forearm against the rink’s railing. His costume clings to his body, a cascade of shimmering light, as delicate and iridescent as snow. He used to hate this costume and its stupid theme, but he’s come to appreciate what it represents. Agape. It’s still not something that fully belongs to him, but he thinks he’s gotten to understand its meaning a little better.  
Otabek walks to him and stands a few inches away. He doesn’t smile to Yuri this time, not quite; but there is warmth in his eyes, sincere appreciation for what he saw.  
“You’ve done great,” he congratulates, curtly but with enough emphasis that Yuri knows he means it. Otabek’s handsome face looks more relaxed than usual, his traits less severe and stony.  
(...  _Handsome_? Yes. The Kazak champion is handsome, indeed. Yuri doesn’t usually pay much attention to details like that, but even he can recognize a good-looking face. Victor is handsome. Otabek maybe even more so… in a completely different way, that’s obvious, but Yuri cannot entirely describe how.)  
Yuri wants to smile, he tries to, then he stops. What comes out instead is a weird, half-assed grimace and then he bites his lip, fingers curling into fists against his hips.  
“… You too” he mutters, rubbing one foot against the other. What the hell was that? He must try to do better.  
He looks up and stares right into the other’s face, mustering all the courage he has.  
“You, well, you were amazing” he finally spits out, his voice louder and cracking only a little.  
He takes a step towards the other. Straightens up his shoulders and breathes, in and out, deeply.  
Otabek’s eyebrows are furrowed. His expression now a little puzzled, maybe concerned.  
Fuck. Yuri trembles. Is he blushing again?  
Doesn’t matter. Now’s the time. He must do it.  
Can he do it? He wants to. It’s no big deal.  
What if someone’s watching?  
He glances around. No one is watching. No one will see, and even if they do, why would he care?  
Yuri inhales and exhales again.  
Otabek waits, silently, gently allowing him the time to process whatever it is that he’s struggling with. The older man seems slightly curious, but he doesn’t ask questions.  
Yuri reaches out and his right hand slips into Otabek’s left one, intertwining their fingers. He’s positively forgotten how to breath by now, his face is probably crimson red and he’s sure he’s never looked worse.  
He tentatively tugs on Otabek’s hand with a flick of his wrist.  
“Hey, um,” he whispers, “Do you want to go for a walk?”  
Otabek’s expression relaxes now, and all of a sudden his face is lit up by the biggest smile Yuri has ever seen him give. His bigger hand gently tightens his grip around Yuri’s, caressing the younger man’s fingers with his thumb.  
“Yes, certainly,” he says, loud enough for only Yuri to hear. “Let’s go.”

" _Come, come, my baby come_  
 _I will show you the world_  
 _Come, come, my baby come_  
 _I will cover your nightmares_  
 _Come, come, my baby come_  
 _I will love you forever_  
 _Come, come, my baby come_  
 _I will not let you go_ "

* “Come” – Jain

**Author's Note:**

> So, fluff isn't really my strong suit. I try, from time to time, but I often end up adding an edge of angst... This time I somehow managed to resist the urge of making everything painful for the characters :D  
> I hope you've enjoyed it. I liked writing Yurio's POV, he's such a ball of anger and obliviousness to his feelings, and seeing him drop his guard to enjoy Otabek's company in the anime was one of my favorite moments. 
> 
> Please let me know if there are any continuity mistakes in the story, or errors in the references to canon places and events. 
> 
> Marty


End file.
